


It Only Takes A Taste (when it's something special)

by ShippingEverything



Category: The Penumbra Podcast
Genre: Baking, Damien isnt here but hes In The Relationship Still, F/M, Lizard Kissin' Tuesday (Penumbra Podcast), Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-19
Updated: 2019-11-19
Packaged: 2021-02-13 01:44:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21486283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShippingEverything/pseuds/ShippingEverything
Summary: it only takes a taste, when you know it's goodor: arum bakes, rilla distracts, they're both ridiculous
Relationships: Lord Arum/Rilla (Penumbra Podcast), Lord Arum/Sir Damien/Rilla (Penumbra Podcast)
Comments: 11
Kudos: 66





	It Only Takes A Taste (when it's something special)

**Author's Note:**

> *blows a kiss to the swamp of titan's blooms* for lord arum
> 
> anyway! its nanowrimo and im Many words behind but you know what it also is? lizard kissin' tuesday, and it's a SECOND CITADEL EPISODE DAY! so here's my First Ever penumbra fic bc i love rilla and she deserves to kiss the lizard more. Title from Waitress the Musical's _It Only Takes A Taste_ because when there's baking, you Gotta
> 
> please enjoy these scalies

“It’s amazing,” Rilla says, pulling a icing-sticky finger out of her mouth, “That the stuff you make can taste so good when you can’t recite a _single_ real or reproducible measurement for any recipe you use.”

Rilla goes for another swipe at the icing -- Arum wasn’t joking when he said that monsters made some of the finest cakes -- but Arum uses his tail to tug it away from her. His hands are all full, two kneading, another cracking eggs with remarkable skill, and the final claw carefully pressing the dough cutter that Rilla created into a sheet of dough. He’s only really paying attention to the final hand, Rilla can tell by how intently he’s focused on it as it cuts, blinking even less than usual, and Rilla’s hand itches for the recorder. There have been _“rules”_ and _“promises”_ made about treating her boyfriends like research subjects, but it's times like this, when Rilla is watching Arum do several tasks at once without difficulty, that the part of Rilla that always wants answers and explanations _craves_.

The regular part of her mostly just craves more icing.

“A pinch is a perfectly recreatable measurement, do hands not work the same regardless of who’s baking?” Arum asks, without looking away from the cookies. Rilla, who is _not getting into this argument again_, merely rolls her eyes. Arum’s tail shifts the container of icing easily to his right upper arm as it finishes with the eggs and he easily places it on a shelf higher than Rilla can reach, purposely of course. “Regardless, didn’t I say you weren’t allowed in my kitchen?”

“Keep-Mom likes me better than you,” Rilla says, and the Keep sings a few cheerful, teasing notes after her. Arum’s concentration breaks as his frill ruffles; Rilla may have gotten better at understanding the subtleties of the Keep’s singing, but she doesn’t know if she’ll ever be able to translate it into words like Arum can, and she’s not sure if she’d really _want_ to now that she knows that the Keep mostly uses its connection with Arum to rile him up.

Then again, that’s also _Rilla’s_ general goal, so, maybe she wouldn’t mind it.

Arum looks at Rilla now, the put-upon annoyance in his expression cracking to show something softer underneath. Rilla isn’t allowed in the kitchen for a _lot_ of reasons -- hovering and incessantly asking questions being the biggest ones, but the Great Stew Incident wherein she allowed herself to get distracted by the gleam of Arum’s eyes isn't insignificant either. She squeezes her hands into tight fists to stop herself from stepping over and easily closing the distance between them, from pressing her hands to Arum’s face and her body against his horribly ugly apron, from making his frill twitch for completely different reasons. She wants, _god does she want_, but she’s not sure he would forgive her if she distracted him enough that his _Welcome Back (And Congratulations On Not Dying)_ cookies were ruined.

“How’s it going?” Rilla asks, in lieu of everything else.

“I completed a batch already but it was…” Arum’s tongue flicks out as he _tktktk_s unhappily. “Less than satisfactory.”

Rilla hums, then, despite promising herself that she wasn't going to get into it this time, says, “You know, there's a really easy way to make sure that your cookies always come out perfectly every time-”

“I'm not going to use one of your _measuring devices_, Amaryllis, stop asking.”

“I'm just saying, maybe baking is more _science_ than you want to admit.”

“Do you want to eat the remains of my failed batch or not?” Arum asks, gesturing towards the finished cookies that Rilla had previously ignored. There's a rumbling in his chest that tips Rilla off to how he's pretending to be he’s more annoyed than he is, and it makes Rilla want to resist. And it's not just about being contrary because that's her and Arum's dynamic, it's about making Arum admit that he _wants_ her to eat one of his “bad” cookies and rave over them.

It's about making Arum _beg_.

But, well, Rilla _really_ wants one of the cookies. She holds off for a few seconds, just to watch the anxious twitch of his tail, before the caves and grabs one. “I’m sure you’re exaggerating their flaws.”

Arum huffs but she's well aware of the unblinking focus he has on her, completely abandoning his baking. It's enough to make her want to roll her eyes; just her luck that she'd end up with two boys on opposite ends of the emotional expression spectrum. When she bites into the cookie, her eyelids flutter shut involuntarily as it melts on her tongue, the perfect sugary flavor tasting better than she ever could’ve expected.

“Is it,” Arum _tktktktks_, interrupting himself. Rilla opens her eyes and sees him, tongue flickering, eyes dilated. A warmth builds in the pit of Rilla's stomach. He regains control over himself and continues, “Is it to your _satisfaction_?”

Rilla hums, putting on an act of uncertainty, and takes another delectable bite. “I'm not sure.”

“_What_.” Arum asks, flat.

“I said I'm not sure. It's good, of course, but I've had a lot of _good_ things in my life.”

“I can assure you that nothing _I_ make is just _good_-” Arum hisses, frill twitching with insult. Rilla breaks, snorting with laughter at his outrage. “You're _making fun of me_.”

“Oh, don't be like that.”

Arum huffs, frill rising in embarrassment. “You come in here, you pilfer my icing and take my cookies, the _least_ you could do is tell me truthfully how it was.”

“It was amazing, of course it was,” Rilla says, stepping in and smoothing her hands over his top set of arms. He _tktktk_s unhappily, turning his head away. “Come on, you big baby. You know that you're the best baker I know and you _know_ that I always love your food, that I always love you.”

“You're a terror,” Arum grumbles, but there's a pleased rumbling coming from his chest and he moves his lower arms to rest on Rilla's hips, relaxing slightly.

“Mhm, I know,” Rilla says, pressing a kiss to the underside of his jaw. “By the way, I think your second batch is burning.”

“_Amaryllis_” Arum hisses, tensing, “_This_ is why you are _not allowed in my kitchen!_”

**Author's Note:**

> aaaaa im so excited for more second citadel (im a patron so i've already heard this one but im gonna listen to it again tomorrow and cry more) and i love the bouquet 
> 
> anyway thank you so much for reading, i love you all, happy lizard kissing tuesday!
> 
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